


better watch out

by wildcard_47



Series: home for the holidays [1]
Category: Mad Men
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:56:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcard_47/pseuds/wildcard_47
Summary: More Harris-Pryce Christmas fluff.





	better watch out

Hot white and orange embers had dimmed into deep shimmering reds by the time Joan finally glanced back at the fireplace, and thought about adding another log to the pile. Although she didn’t want the fire to die out, she was also too comfortable to move from her place at the end of the sofa, snuggled under several warm blankets.

Lane got up instead, and tapped her knee in an absent way, as if he knew why she wasn't moving. “I’ve got it.”

Once he was standing, he gave her a deeply amused look before directing his next remark to the tree—or more accurately, to the little boy who was still tiptoing around it.

“Can’t believe you're still doing that.”

Joan glanced right; saw a beaming Kevin carefully draping tinsel over his sleeping stepbrother’s forehead. Nigel had sacked out on the floor after they finished dinner, and as a result, Kevin had spent the last hour decorating everything from Nigel’s hair to his feet.

He’d started with a few paper chains, then moved on to cranberries and popcorn strings, and now tinsel. It was probably the most successful prank he’d ever pulled. Joan was just surprised he hadn’t woken that poor kid up by now. Even if Nigel had spent the previous night staying up until 2AM with his comics.

“Think there’s an extra string of lights in the storage unit,” Lane offered, grinning when Joan arched an eyebrow at him in response.

Kevin clearly didn’t notice the twinkle in his dad’s eyes or her extremely skeptical expression, just pumped his fist in silent glee and ran out of the living room, toward the front door. “I’m getting the Brownie, too!”

“Don’t forget a key!” Lane called after him as the door opened and shut. Then opened again, followed by a metallic jingle.

Under the tree, Nigel slept on.

Joan let out a rueful laugh. “This is going to backfire.”

“Oh, it’s just fun, isn’t it?” Lane didn’t seem worried, just glanced over at his son with a fond smile. “And clearly, someone needed the rest.”

“He's going to be ticked off tomorrow,” she pointed out, mouth twisting in a wry expression as Lane sat down next to her, and turned to meet her gaze.

“Well. I’m sure he’ll wage his own war on Boxing Day. As will we all.”

For a minute, they both watched, tickled and fascinated, as Nigel fidgeted in his sleep under the tree; one of the cranberry strings draped over his left elbow popped and scattered berry pellets all over the Christmas tree skirt.

“Do I need to sleep with one eye open, Mr. Pryce?”

Lane’s eyes widened, but he adopted a very casual shrug, even though his voice became a low, playful purr. “Well, Mrs. Harris. Have you been very good or very bad this year?”

“Very bad,” Joan told him, straight-faced, as she ran one sly hand up his thigh. Lane gave her a look that said she had better drink some coffee before the kids went to bed. “Very, very bad.”


End file.
